


Maybe In The Next Life

by donquiqui



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: AU, Ambivalence, Angst, Comfort, Emo! Roxas, Gen, Other, Out of school mofos, Sea Salt Ice Cream, Sickness, Summer, Twilight Town, Veiled canon referances, bittersweetness, dumb kids these days., last summer, life/death motif
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-11
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-02-03 11:53:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1743764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donquiqui/pseuds/donquiqui
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roxas is a sickly child who moves to get away from Neverwas City his summer after graduating highschool. Twilight Town is supposed to be cleaner, slower living. Better living for before he dies, at the very least.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe In The Next Life

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, this is my first KH fanfic, although I've been in the fandom since second grade.  
> Secondly, I DO NOT claim to have any medical history, so the illness portrayed is a vague heart condition.  
> Lastly, I hope you enjoy this little fic.  
> I desperately needed a break from my SnK fic.
> 
> Also this is rated Mature for strong language.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Transplanting a plant can be difficult. The plant may not even survive if great care is not taken.
> 
> (Roxas takes himself too seriously. Can you blame him though.)

When you're told you are dying, you usually cry. Most people would cry, anyway.

I didn't. I expected it.

I suppose I am a bit of a morbid thinker. My father never knew how to deal with me. He send me to shrinks of all sorts. He eventually stopped sending me to them because they always said the same thing: "This boy needs someone in his life to be a parent."

That was too hard for him; he stopped being my dad along time ago. Once mom had died, he sort of died too.

He's definitely dead to me.

If I sound angry, it's because I am. I think I have a bit of a right to be. It's pretty much all I have a right to at this point. Now that I dying.

I was told three things.

The first thing is that, if I'm "lucky", I have until the end of the year.

The second thing I was told was that I would be moving in with my grandparents. I wasn't supposed to be in the city as the air is not as clean or whatever.

I suppose leaving is just as well because it's a pretty shitty city. Still, you get use to a place like this.

No one would miss me. That's the thing that's the hardest.

The third thing I was told was the most fucked.

When we were on the train, my dad and I that is, he kept on crying. For a moment, I felt like he actually cared.

"You were... never meant to be born. Look how much pain you caused your mother. If only you weren't alve," he sobbed. "then she wouldn't have died knowing her son would soon follow." 

I was already so done with this bullshit.

When I arrived at my grandparents, I didn't quite know what to expect. The last time I visited them was second grade. They don't seem to mind. To them, I am just a tall second grader.

So here I am. Unpacking my stuff, trying to get my shit together. My room is actually much more spacious. 

It's actually my mom's old room. Grandpa kept this place like a shrine. A dusty shrine, but untouched.

By my moving in, I destroy the last remaining thing my mom can claim on Earth.

My grandma, especially acknowledges this. I see both unspoken anger at me, but mostly pity.

I do not like to be pitied.

I open the windows, which have a mosaic of stained colored glass. In the distance, bells ring five times, counting up the hours.

"Hey sport! I see you got everything set up!" grandpa says condescendingly, although not intentionally."Good on you for being so fast about it."

I take a second to wonder if he is being sarcastic, because I did this as slow as possible, so as to avoid this sort of conversation.

I try to go with something safe: "Oh thanks grandpa. I'm a little tired from all this unpacking, so I'm going to take a-" *YAWN*-"cat nap." 

"Oh sure sport. Don't strain yourself."

Yeah, I'm an asshole. If I so much as say I'm sleepy, people think I'm on the verge of a stroke.

But the more I think about it, the more I realize how tired I actually am.

*

When I wake up, I smell dinner and walk down to the table. My grandparents just sat down.

The table is nicely set, and grandma put the flowers dad gave her in a clear vase. It's nice that she put in the effort to put a nice first night meal together.

I'm about to dig in, but I notice the bowed heads and joined hands, so I stop myself and join in grandpa's prayer. I don't join hands. I'm just not a touchy guy. It's an odd and small thing but my not holding hands with them contourts my grandma's face, slightly pained.

"Heavenly Father, we gather here, near the close of the day, in thanksgiving for the bounty you set before us. We also thank you for the gift of Roxas and his visit with us," grandpa says, with a hurt edge to his voice. Visit. Ha. Thank you "heavenly father", for reminding me that I can never have what I what most people are secure about: assurance about their continued existance. Thank you for killing my mother, and for taking me next. 

"Amen." 

As I am eating the meal, I feel reliefed that we are mostly quiet. "This the first homecooked meal you've had all week I bet," my grandfather chuckles. 

"It's the first in a year, really." It was also a year since mom died and they know that, and I want them to know that she wasn't just their daughter, but a huge part of my life that is now missing. 

Grandpa grows kinda quiet and an uncomfortable silence befalls the table.

Grandma senses this all the tension surrounding the fact that this motherless, and practically fatherless boy is neglected.  
"Well then I am pleased to have had the honor."

This response satiates my for now. She elegantly danced around my curveball, and did not put me in a hard position. For this, I respect her, but mostly I hate her.

The meal is nice though. I will take it over a frozen Banquet any day.

*

When the dishes are done, grandma suggests that I go out tomorrow night.

I don't really fancy a movie, nor the Twilight Town youth group, but I choose the lesser of two evils, the latter.

As the evening sunsets, I pullout my phone and leave my old friend from back home, Olette a message.

"Delivered > 10:30 pm. Roxas- ' Hey stranger, miss you and Pence. OK even Hayner. Its pretty boring here so text me back soon.'" 

Even I know it sounds geeky, but fuck it. I miss everything.

*

I wake up in the middle of the night with my hand raised to the ceiling, my heart beating, and the taste of salt on my tongue. It's not sweat, I realize.

It is my own tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWILIGHT TOWN YOUTH GROUP IS DORKY OKAY? STAY WITH ME.


End file.
